


Shadows

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: Anywhere [6]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 05:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17616749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: He closed his eyes, breathing slow and deep and trying to get back to a place where touching Mac wouldn't feel like desecrating a church.





	Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Another look at an old meta/headcanon of mine. It can be found [here.](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com/post/173044335886/macgyver-2016-why-rebootjack-dalton-is-waaay)

_There were so many bodies._

_He didn't even recognize most of them, which was the really awful thing about it. In movies, good men who were forced to do bad things always remembered the faces of every single person they'd killed. But Jack had spent too many years killing too many people, often on the other side of a sniper's scope or in the middle of a firefight. Even if he knew them at one point, by now time had blurred them together._

_He didn't think he was exaggerating the count, though. Stacks of them filled up every corner of his old apartment, 20 bodies deep in some places, stuffing the hallway so full he couldn't have moved past them if he wanted to. It didn't matter, though. He knew from previous experience that the other rooms would be just as full, the blood on each and every body as fresh as it had been the day he'd killed them._

_None of that, though, was the worst part of this little scene. That would be any moment now, when the front door opened and someone he loved more than anything in the world stepped through. In the early years of the nightmare it had almost always been his dad, even after he'd died. Sarah had shown up a few times, though those hadn't been gut-shakingly awful enough for his brain to keep her in the lineup. There was a stretch of genuinely shitty years where it had been Riley, forever frozen as the teenager he'd last seen her as._

_Since the moment Mac hadn't left when Jack told him to, though, it had always been him._

_There would be the sound of the door opening, and though Jack ran with everything he had in him it would never be fast enough to keep it closed. Mac's eyes would meet his, and for just a second they'd be full of that warm welcome he'd come to rely on as much as oxygen. Then Mac's gaze would slip to a point just beyond Jack's shoulder, eyes slowly but surely widening in horror as he took in the carnage. When his eyes returned to Jack's, his horror would condense down to a single fixed point -- Jack himself. Mac would back up a step, flinch away when Jack would try to reach for him, but he would never stop staring as if Jack were the worst monster he'd ever seen._

_He could never close his eyes or turn away from the look, no matter how hard he tried._

Jack finally clawed his way free of the nightmare, opening his eyes to the darkness of Mac's bedroom. It was technically theirs now, his things in half the closet and Mac sprawled out in bed beside him, and it felt more like a dream than the scene he'd just escaped from. Like he'd rot it from the inside out, just by being here.

Stomach twisting at the thought, he let go of Mac and leaned over the opposite side of the bed like he was about to puke in a bucket. He closed his eyes instead, breathing slow and deep and trying to get back to a place where touching Mac wouldn't feel like desecrating a church. He was usually better at shoving all this back into the deep dark hole where it usually lived – he'd had years of practice – but it was the first time since he and Mac had gotten together that he'd this particular nightmare. It was hell trying to get his equilibrium back.

That, of course, was when he heard Mac's sleep-fogged voice from the other side of the bed. "Jack?" Then, more clearly, "are you okay?"

"You were right." He tried for lightness, getting closer than he had any right to. "I _definitely_ shouldn't have had that fourth burrito at dinner."

"Uh huh." The disbelief in Mac's voice was obvious, and a moment later Jack felt the warmth of a hand on his bare back. He flinched involuntarily – he didn't want Mac anywhere _near_ this part of him – and Mac yanked his hand back like he'd been burned. "Sorry." He sounded pained now, hesitant in a way Jack had never heard him be. The bed shifted. "I'll just... maybe I can..."

Shit. Shit shit shit. Jack was back around like a shot, grabbing Mac's arm before he could make it all the way off the bed. "I'm the one who's sorry." He'd _sworn_ he'd never let his damage hurt Mac. He'd _sworn_ it. "It's not you, it's the nightmare. I'm a bastard when it hits." Mac's eyes narrowed, and Jack knew he deserved whatever Mac said. "If you want to—"

"Shut up." He pulled Jack into his arms, then back down onto the bed, and held on tight. Even though he knew he didn't deserve it, Jack let himself be pulled. "I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it."

"No." Jack pressed his face against Mac's shoulder, breathing him in and trying not to imagine a day when he would fuck this up. They'd been friends for years, but there'd always been the thinnest thread of space between them where he could keep this tucked safe and out of the way. Now, though, Mac would get a firsthand look at why he'd ruined every romantic relationship he'd ever had. "If I could, I'd keep you a million miles away from this part of me."

Mac didn't say anything for a long moment, rubbing soothing patterns along Jack's back. "Is it because we're officially going back to work at the Phoenix Foundation?" he asked quietly.

Maybe, but it didn't change a damn thing. "Of course not. No way in hell we're breaking up the family."

Mac's hand slowed. "We'd still be a family, even if we weren't all doing the same—"

"No." Jack pushed himself up enough to look down at Mac's face. "It's not that, Mac. I promise."

The worry on Mac's face softened, flooding through with what felt a hell of a lot like love. "I thought the CIA was supposed to be full of hotshot superspies," he murmured, hand sliding up to cup the back of his neck. "The only thing you ever lie about is when you tell me you're fine."

Jack's throat went tight. "You know me. Official class clown of the Agency, six years running."

"A routine that's somehow both completely true and as much a cover as any fake name you've ever had." Jack couldn't keep the surprise off his face, and Mac gave him a chiding look. "After all these years, you _really_ think I don't know how you work? I study things, Jack, especially when they matter."

He blinked hard against suddenly stinging eyes. "There's some bad stuff in there," he managed.

Mac's expression turned solemn. "Some hard things. Some tough choices. Probably a hell of a lot of PTSD." He pulled Jack's head down so that his forehead rested against his. "But the darkness in you isn't bad. Especially when you use it for so much good."

Jack closed his eyes, letting Mac's light chase the rest of the shadows back where they belonged. He didn't know if he deserved it, but he was the last person in the world who was going to tell Mac he was wrong. "Have I mentioned how much I love you, yet?" he breathed.

Mac closed his eyes, and Jack was close enough he could see the tears. "I had a pretty good idea, but I don't think it's specifically come up," he whispered. "But for the record, I love you, too."

"Yeah." Jack's voice was rough as he closed the distance between them for another kiss. "I had a pretty good idea."

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [original fiction,](https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks) my [blog,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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